How we cite our quotes: (Book.Chapter.Paragraph)
Quote #7
And hence, I think, we may very fairly draw an argument, to prove how extremely natural virtue is to the fair sex; for, though there is not, perhaps, one in ten thousand who is capable of making a good actress, and even among these we rarely see two who are equally able to personate the same character, yet this of virtue they can all admirably well put on; and as well those individuals who have it not, as those who possess it, can all act it to the utmost degree of perfection. (10.2.17)
Okay, we're just going to say it: ugh. There are so many obnoxious things about this passage that it's hard to know where to begin. let's start with "we" versus "they." Whenever the narrator talks about women, he always talks about "them." But when he addresses the reading audience, it's "we," as in "we men." Not all your readers are dudes, Fielding! Secondly, the narrator is basically calling women natural liars, because those who "have [natural virtue] not" can still "put [it] on" as well as those who "possess it." Thirdly, the tone of this whole passage is funny and sarcastic, as though the narrator is nudging us with an elbow and saying, "Huh? Huh? Am I right? Chicks, bro—I tell ya." We can take a joke, but after a while, this tongue-and-cheek teasing about women lacking virtue gets really, really old.
Quote #8
Notwithstanding the many pretty arts which ladies sometimes practise, to display their fears on every little occasion (almost as many as the other sex uses to conceal theirs), certainly there is a degree of courage which not only becomes a woman, but is often necessary to enable her to discharge her duty. It is, indeed, the idea of fierceness, and not of bravery, which destroys the female character; for who can read the story of the justly celebrated Arria without conceiving as high an opinion of her gentleness and tenderness as of her fortitude? At the same time, perhaps, many a woman who shrieks at a mouse, or a rat, may be capable of poisoning a husband; or, what is worse, of driving him to poison himself. (10.9.3)
And once again, Tom Jones reminds us that it was written a couple of centuries before feminism. The narrator's view on what kind of strength it is appropriate for women to have is pretty condescending. He says that women should be brave, yes, but not fierce. In other words, women's courage should be strong but not angry or confrontational. The ideal that the narrator invites us to admire is a woman who is definitely brave, but who uses her bravery strictly in support of the man she loves. What do you guys think of this model of womanly courage?
Quote #9
To clear, therefore, the honour of Mr Jones, and to do justice to the liberality of the lady, he had really received this present from her, who, though she did not give much into the hackney charities of the age, such as building hospitals, &c., was not, however, entirely void of that Christian virtue; and conceived (very rightly I think) that a young fellow of merit, without a shilling in the world, was no improper object of this virtue. (13.8.2)
This passage is actually pretty hilarious: Lady Bellaston may not be big on conventional charities, but she does like to support poor (and handsome) young men every now and again. Tom appears to be one of these lucky lads. In fact, it's thanks to her that Tom has been able to survive in London. Tom is Lady Bellaston's kept man. One reason why we find this darkly funny is that Squire Western keeps insulting his daughter by calling Sophia a prostitute. Yet, isn't it actually Tom who is the prostitute? He is the one who is having sex with Lady Bellaston for money!